


Safe

by Fuzziestpuppy



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 4
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Confused!Pagan, Feral!Ajay, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Sharing a Bed, a little smut, as a treat, pretty much pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29879940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy
Summary: Ajay clearly wanted something from him.  And despite everything with Ishwari and counter to his own expectations...Pagan had found himself willing to give it.
Relationships: Ajay Ghale/Pagan Min
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sand_shoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sand_shoes/gifts).



***

_Oh, draw the blinds_   
_We can shut out the night_   
_Pull up the blankets_   
_Pull the blankets up tight_

_And there are angels on our curtains_   
_They keep the outside out_   
_And there are lions on our curtains_   
_They lick their wounds_   
_They lick their doubt_

_Curtains - Peter Gabriel_

***

Pagan wakes to darkness, to a dull roaring in his ears.

But his bedroom at night is a familiar, unthreatening sort of dark, and the noise is only the howl of the wind as it whips past his corner of the building. The first of the big storms funneling down from the heights, bringing with it the ice and snow that will close the mountain passes for another year. Muffled by layers of stone and thick plaster, the sound of it is almost comforting.

But after nearly thirty years of living up here, just another storm shouldn’t have been enough to wake him. He rolls over groggily, not having meant to fall asleep at all. And then remembers why he did, and the new addition to his familiar bedroom that’s not nearly as familiar as the rest.

Ajay. Who is currently beside him in bed.

Both of them still naked, from earlier.

Pagan can only make out the vague outline of his shaggy hair in the dark, just enough to tell that he has his head turned toward the window. He reaches out slowly to touch his arm and feels the muscles drawn tight and hard and trembling against his palm, on high alert.

He so often is. Always quiet, but his stillness is seldom relaxed…like a brewing storm himself, really. Like the hush just before it strikes. That same tension.

“Only the wind,” he murmurs drowsily, noting his chilled skin. “It’s quite all right. Nothing to be concerned about.” But as soon as the words are out of his mouth, a prankish gust of wind flings ice against the glass like a handful of thrown gravel. Good thing the windows are rated for anything short of artillery.

No response from Ajay, except a minute twitch at the impact. Pagan sighs, and then slides out from under the warm covers.

Rather than ring for the help and put up with them bustling about the place, he just gets up and tends to the fire himself. In the interest of speed he doesn’t bother with his dressing gown, although that’s a decision he finds himself regretting as he quickly punches up the coals in the hearth. Already shivering as he grabs another log and flings it onto the andirons.

He has his doubts that the storm is what’s responsible for Ajay’s nervousness.

Not really. Or at least, not entirely.

But all the same, Pagan hopes a little more light and warmth will be a comfort to him. As he climbs back under the thick quilts, he pulls the bed curtains partly shut as well, cutting off the draft and making it a bit cozier inside. Den-like. A small, fire-lit cave. Perhaps he’ll find a little comfort in that too.

But he doesn’t say a word to Pagan about it one way or the other; merely lies there and keeps his back turned to him.

From start to finish, nothing involving Ajay had ever gone to plan. Certainly not…this, whatever this was. Is. Not entirely sure just how or when it had even started. But still more confusing is the _why._ Why him? The answer might be more elusive than the feral creature currently inhabiting his bed.

By the time Ajay finally made it up his mountain, he had killed most of the Army and half the Guard as well and had behaved very much like a stray dog that had been kicked one too many times. Skittish and half-starved and inclined bite; go for the throat and ask questions later. Dangerously unpredictable. One moment he showed his teeth and snapped at him, and then the very next was asking him to stay, as if that little display with the gun had never happened.

Lucky to have come out of that one with his head still attached to his shoulders.

No, the only thing Pagan knew was that despite not wanting him to leave, Ajay would shy away if he got anywhere near him. So he had sighed and obligingly maintained his distance, but kept a patient hand outstretched just in case. Didn’t push, didn’t corner, and just did his best to feed him whenever possible. And this had undoubtedly been the correct tack to take with him, because before long, Ajay had crept a little closer to him. Closer again, when that proved to be safe enough.

And then, closer still…making it quite clear what it was he wanted.

After all of his own unquestionably one-sided flirting, with absolutely no indication it had been the least bit appreciated, that bombshell had shocked the shit out of him. Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d actually been _serious._ Fairly certain, anyway. He’d had to roll that one around in his mind for a bit.

But Ajay wanted something from him, and despite Ishwari and counter to his own expectations, he found himself willing to give it. More than just willing, in fact. For the first time in decades, he realized he’d been excited by the prospect of it…even if he still had no idea why him, of all people. Difficult to believe that his tastes would just happen to run to men anything like him; that he would find worn out and scarred up and slightly effete and very much on the wrong side of forty to be inherently attractive somehow…oh, and don’t forget the massive heap of old baggage piled on the side!

Surely not. A ludicrous idea.

But that didn’t seem to matter much, since whatever his reasons were, Ajay had shown up in his rooms anyway. Perhaps he’d been just a bit drunk. He suspected so, and then insisted on having a few more together, because _he’d_ surely needed it…and after a bit of brandy thinking in general hadn’t exactly been high on the priority list.

Like raw combustion, when they touched.

And now, Pagan lies there studying the line of his shoulders, his nape, and wonders if he didn’t just royally fuck things up. As the more mature gentleman, perhaps he should’ve been the one to put the fucking brakes on a little. But god, after so long…

They’d barely had the chance to get clothes off. A blur of hot and fast and _good_ …but over so quickly.

So many things on the very tip of his tongue: _All this is a great deal of change in a very short span of time, and I do wish you’d talk to me. I’d like to hear your thoughts on matters, such as what you had in mind for…this? Did you plan for it to be a one-off sort of thing and now it’s out of your system? Was sleeping with me more disturbing than you anticipated, after everything?_

_Do you regret it?_

But Pagan leaves it all unsaid. Too much. Not sure he even wants the answers.

Instead, what he says is: “You’re safe here, you know. Safe, with me.”

Which might seem a bit ludicrous, especially in light of recent events and his intelligence reports and Ajay’s triple digit body count. He hardly needs Pagan to shelter him from that sort of injury. But the notion of being safe encompasses much more than mere avoidance of bodily harm.

Finally, Ajay stirs, and offers him more than the view of his bare back. Finally rolls over to face him, and those hauntingly familiar eyes examine his face intently for…something, he has no idea what. The reflected firelight makes them look nearly black, like dark water under the surface of which he thinks all his secret Ajay thoughts.

But whatever it is he searches for in Pagan’s face, he seems to find, as his eyes soften a little in the warm light. Almost fondly, and with relief, and perhaps even the barest hint of a smile.

“Yeah, I know…I know I am,” Ajay says, in his quiet way. And then reaches for him.

When Ajay wants to touch him in a way that has little to do with sex and everything to do with affection, something that Pagan hadn’t known was pulled tight inside him eases a little. Simply wanting him close. To hold, to be held in turn. He slides his arms around him and rests his shaggy black head against his shoulder, and Pagan can’t even begin to recall when he was last touched by another human being like this. The last time he let anyone anywhere close enough to.

It surprises him when Ajay is the one to break the silence.

“At first, I didn’t really understand,” he says, a little haltingly. Just barely audible. “You were trying to tell me stuff, but I couldn’t hear it. All the other shit going on was drowning you out.”

It seems out of the blue, and Pagan wonders what led him there in his mind, and why he wants to talk about it now. They never have.

“That was most likely intentional, on their part.”

“Maybe. You’re probably right,” Ajay admits. “But that wasn’t the whole reason. It was mostly because I hadn’t learned how to listen yet. You talked a whole lot, but what you were really saying was like the sound of a single raindrop hitting a leaf,” and Pagan can hear the smile in his voice. “Shit, it took coming up here that day to make me realize that you weren’t just rambling, just talking to hear yourself talk.”

It’s the longest he’s ever heard the boy speak about anything, period. Pagan smiles as well, but his is a bit rueful. “I do tend to go on sometimes, don’t I?”

“Eh, kinda. But now? I understand a lot more. Like why she sent me, and why she couldn’t talk about it. Why you said and did the things you did. None of that made sense before. But…I fucked up,” he says, even more softly. “I fucked up a whole lot of stuff, when I should’ve just stayed put and eaten those rangoons like you told me to.”

Pagan waves a hand airily before returning it to the boy’s back. “Oh, that’s quite all right. We all make mistakes from time to time. But we’ve learned a great many lessons from our little fuckups, now haven’t we?”

“Yeah,” and then is quiet for long moments. “So are you,” Ajay murmurs, slowly, as if he’s been turning that around in his mind for a bit. “Safe with me, I mean.” Warm breath against Pagan’s skin.

“I know it, dearest. I do. I really do.” Pagan’s voice is warm as well, but he also says it with the gravity such a statement deserves to be given.

Such a gift. A promise.

If any one person in Kyrat could make that promise and actually keep it…it would be him. Single-handedly. On at least a few different levels, and Pagan strokes a hand over his hair again. He seems to enjoy that, being petted.

In turn Ajay traces over an old scar on Pagan’s chest with his fingertips, faded by the passing years to a thin white line.”

“…good. Glad you know that.”

As wonderful as it is to be held and given gifts like that, to reach an understanding…it also feels to him as if they’ve done things a bit out of order. As if he ought to rectify that. And reaches down to tip Ajay’s chin up. But slowly, so as not to spook him, and giving him every chance to back away if it’s not what he wants.

And then Pagan leans in to kiss him for the very first time.

But he doesn’t. His boy doesn’t feel the need to back away from him, not anymore.

Quite the opposite.

The icy wind roars and bellows in the dark outside their window, but in here, the soft crackle of burning wood keeps both at bay.

Good to lie here in his warm bed and listen to it rage, secure in the knowledge that he’s safe from it. Good to share that; to lie here next to someone else and have their warm body resting against his. Resting in his arms and sharing slow, drowsy kisses from time to time, just for the hell of it. Just because it feels so nice to, after so very long. A luxury, to be able to hold and kiss someone he gives a fuck about.

Although he isn’t the most comfortable bedmate, Ajay’s lean, rangy frame seeming to be comprised mainly of knees and elbows and sharp hipbones and thrumming tension…it also doesn’t matter. The satiny heat of naked skin touching his makes up for a great deal. Even if Ajay can’t quite seem to relax, Pagan does double duty in their soft little nest, feeling as if he’s sinking into the bedding. While the boy may be wound tight as a lute string, the silence between them isn’t tense at all. Oddly comfortable, considering…everything.

Lulled by it, Pagan finds himself drifting a little.

At one point Ajay shifts against him; a bit restless maybe, but not in a way that’s bothersome. Easy enough to ignore. But then he does it again, more deliberately…and this time Pagan understands.

His hands are so warm on his skin. Big and warm and just a little tentative at first, but when he sighs in appreciation they stroke along his chest and belly with more confidence. Petting him, as Ajay's heavy heat rubs gently against his thigh, as a palm rubs over his nipple with delightful friction. And then slides lower.

Must be something about him that the boy finds particularly appealing after all.

“This okay?” Ajay whispers against his ear.

Pagan turns his head and catches his mouth with his again, and lets that be his answer. An emphatic yes.

And then gasps against his lips.

“Oh shit…did that hurt?” The concern in his voice is so sweet.

No. _God_ no,” he says, nearly breathless. “Just…mmm, just keep that up. Exactly like that…”

This time, they’re able to slow down and focus a bit more on each other, now that the initial raw urgency is out of their systems. Not that it hadn’t been good the first time; after so long without, he couldn’t seem to stop trembling in sheer excitement, shaking all over like a schoolboy on his first foray in a car’s warm, dark backseat. Clumsy and fumbling like it too, but after the clothes came off, it was all ragged breathing and pounding hearts and rutting and grinding with little finesse involved. A hot haze of mindless animal pleasure…and then release.

That has its merits, of course, but personally he prefers a little less conflagration and a little more getting to know one another.

And Ajay gives him that. Gentle and maybe a bit tender, that second time is even better than the first.

After two rounds, Pagan might as well be a human puddle in the center of the mattress, his body having reached a near liquid state of relaxation. Vaguely sticky still. Not that he can summon the energy to care. He’s very nearly asleep again when Ajay’s quiet voice intrudes into his post-coital haze; so faint and far away it’s like he’s at the bottom of a well instead of half draped over him.

“So, uh…can I stay?”

Pagan blinks at that. And then has to laugh, a rusty chuckle.

“Boy, need I remind you that you’re the fucking _king?_ You can go where you like and do whatever you please, it’s all yours.”

Ajay’s arms tighten around him, but he doesn’t otherwise respond. Pagan runs a hand through his ridiculously soft, thick hair.

“Ah, but that’s not what you’re really asking, is it?”

A few moments of silence.

“You mind if I sleep here with you tonight?” Ajay finally mumbles against his shoulder. “Stay here in your bed? That’s what I meant.”

“Honestly? I was rather hoping you would,” he confesses.

Not long after that, the wind finally begins to settle down. The howling and clatter of ice gradually lessens, until eventually giving way to the quiet of falling snow. Ajay settles with it, which pleases him greatly; now that he feels able to drop his guard, that wary vigilance, he can relax against him too.

As soon as it happens, sleep comes for both of them. Between one breath and the next; heavy and deep and dreamless.

A fine, restful sleep, but still, Pagan is hardly accustomed to people being in bed with him and ends up waking early. That’s quite all right though, because it means he gets to lie there and enjoy Ajay’s warm weight against him, the soft little huffs of his sleeping breaths against his skin.

Slowly, the light visible through the window gradually shifts from black to a stormy gray, and as it does he also gets to enjoy the open, unguarded expression that he’s never seen on the boy’s face before. His boy, he lets himself think. Another luxury he allows himself to indulge in. Just for this short time between sleep and the waking world, between reality and dreams.

His boy.

Although the sun is well up by the time Ajay begins to stir a bit, the sky remains a shade that could just as well be evening, and Pagan sees no reason to bother with getting up. But to his surprise, neither does Ajay, who sighs and stretches but seems inclined to stay right where he is. With him.

That glows a little, especially when he shifts in his arms to give him a drowsy, good morning sort of kiss. One which starts innocently enough, but soon grows more and more heated. Before long they end up with their legs tangled together under the blankets and hands all over each other, kissing slow and hot and deep.

Pagan shivers against him, but finds himself not quite up for a Round Three just yet. Ah, if only. To be a young man again, able to go all night long and half the next. But that’s no reason for his boy to miss out, or for him to not take the opportunity to enjoy his pleasure, as he reaches into the nightstand for a dollop of lotion.

Lovely indeed, as he holds Ajay close and drinks in the sight of his reddened lips, his eyes soft and heavy-lidded as he rocks into Pagan’s slick hand. Close already, his belly and thighs quivering.

“I like this,” Pagan breathes in his ear. “I like how you feel…so heavy and warm. I like making you feel good.” The rocking motion of his hips increases at that, and Pagan tightens his fingers a little. “Imagine just how wonderful it will feel when you get to fuck me. When I let you come in me…come in me as deeply as you can. Won’t that be lovely? It’ll feel so very good, so good for us both…”

The tiny, choked sound he makes when he snaps his hips forward and shudders and pulses hotly over his fingers is as loud as he ever is in this. But it’s all the sweeter for it, and Pagan drinks in that sweet little noise too, catching it against his own lips. Yet another gift he’s given, when Ajay shares this moment with him. Flushed and sweating and vulnerable and beautiful.

This necessitates a trip to the washroom however, and a brief pause to throw another log on the coals. But besides that brief foray, neither of them stir out of their den. It seems as if Ajay were serious about this whole wanting to be in bed with him thing, long past when Pagan assumed he’d be getting his clothes on and leaving. One night doesn’t amount to all that much and is nothing for him to go pinning any hopes on…but perhaps Ajay feels it too; how natural it seems already to reach out to the other and be cuddled close, the desire to have skin against skin. How easy the quiet morning feels.

Rolled up together in the same blanket, they lie there and look out at the world through the small gap in the curtains.

The first big snowstorm of the year passes over the mountains and lays a soft, heavy blanket of white over everything; an endless multitude of fat white flakes that drift prettily in front of the window. As long as the outside stays out there where it belongs, Pagan is perfectly content to watch it come down from the cozy inside. More than content, their heads touching as they rest together on the same pillow.

A profound quiet lays over the world, a muffled hush. A peace to match what they’ve found together in this bed.

A sanctuary that neither of them really deserve, if he’s being honest. But having it in their power to give…they both went ahead and promised it anyway.

Safe.

***


End file.
